DW Fic: In Case of Emergency - Part 2 ("Things and Stuff")
Title: In Case of Emergency - "Things and Stuff"
Author: Starseeker32
Rating: K or G
Words: 2646
Characters: Ten and Donna
Warnings/Spoilers: An episodic coda to "The Unicorn and the Wasp" in the same universe as the first part of my In Case of Emergency story. Don't let the silly title fool you: this story is about more than vague stuff and things.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. I just wanted to play with the BBC's characters for a bit.
Summary: [Donna and the Doctor have to discuss the use of wiles.]
Donna and the Doctor looked up at the time rotor as the TARDIS took them onwards, in the direction of their next adventure. Donna eventually felt the Doctor's eyes on her and she turned to him, blushing slightly. "What? Have I got something on my face?"
"Hm? No, no. I was just...thinking."
"What about?"
"Oh, the usual. Things. And stuff."
Donna nodded, smirking slightly. "I see."
"And more things," the Doctor elaborated with a small smile of his own.
"Well that's very specific," Donna quipped. She swayed from side to side lazily watching her dress swish as she moved. She still felt like a little girl playing dress-up and wondered if the TARDIS had made the dress especially for her or if it was a hand-me-down from one of the Doctor's former companions.
She nervously ran her fingers along the edge of the console, anxious to find something to focus on other than the alien next to her as she cleared her head. One of her hands went to fiddle with a lever, but she thought better of it. Best not to crash the TARDIS into the 1980s.
Donna sucked in a deep breath and braced herself for the conversation she wanted to have. It would be opening a can of worms and she knew it, but it had to be done: "Doctor, back at Lady Edison's. In the kitchen. With the, um, detox..."
"Oh, I'm fine now." The Doctor gave her a reassuring smile as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "Right as rain, all thanks to you!"
"Well I'm glad of that. Don't you go dyin' on me, Spaceman." Donna pointed an accusatory finger at the Doctor, attempting to lighten the mood with a little banter. She was glad he laughed along. "But I was wondering something. During the...detox, I saw some things. It was like half a dozen daydreams played themselves out in my head. But they looked so real."
The Doctor stalled, taking a moment to rub a phantom dust particle out of his eye. "You don't say. Interesting."
"I do say. And I think you know what I'm on about, yeah?"
"Ah, yes, well," the Doctor sniffed and rubbed the back of his neck, "you know that I'm a touch telepath."
Donna nodded. "Like when we were with the Ood." She had a feeling she knew where this conversation was headed, and it made her feel an odd combination of anticipation and dread.
"I can see all the possibilities of time and space," the Doctor continued, now taking his turn at fiddling with the controls. "I can see everything that is, was, what could ever be and what must not." He pushed the same blue button over and over again. It didn't light up or seem to do anything at all, really, and Donna assumed it was now broken. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the Doctor mutter, "Well, that's new. Got to fix that."
She cleared her throat. "You were saying?"
"Right." The Doctor stopped toying with the console and directed his attention back to Donna. "Well, if you hadn't helped me with the, um, detox, I would have died. My life was literally flashing before my eyes. And yours, it would seem."
Donna frowned. "But I didn't see the past. I saw−"
"My life is complicated, Donna. It's full of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, spacey-wacey..."
Donna grew impatient. "Doctor! You're avoiding the question."
"...stuff. Right. Like I said, I have the ability to see what could be. So when I thought of my connection to you, with my life flashing before my eyes...well, I suppose you could say that everything under the heading of 'my life' includes some possible futures as well."
"I see." Donna gulped. "I did see. Futures. With me."
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"Y'know what, let's just forget about it," Donna decided, dismissing the Doctor with a wave of her hand as she turned to leave the room.
"You're the one who brought it up," the Doctor countered, following after her. "And I can tell it's still bothering you."
Donna whirled around at the threshold. "Bothered? Really?" Donna laughed and put on a brave face. "Do I look bothered? Cos I'm not, you know. I'm definitely not bothered."
"Donna, I know you too well to believe that. You're upset. Please tell me what's wrong."
"Oh, y'know. Things and stuff," she countered. She worried her lip knowing there was no getting out of this one. "Like you said, I think I saw some of my possible futures. Some I didn't understand. There were people I didn't recognize, but it all seemed to make sense at the time. And I saw... I think I saw my own death."
The Doctor nodded but said nothing.
"When you look at me, is that what you see?" she wondered, her blue and gold eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Do you see my death?"
"No, Donna," the Doctor was quick to reassure her. "In fact, I usually can't see much at all. I can't see my own future or the future of those people closest to me. Unless of course there are outstanding circumstances."
"Like the need for a detox. In which case..."
He took her hands in his. "What we saw, us in the street, was only one possible future. And now that we know of that teeny tiny possibility, I can make sure it never happens. I won't have you die on me. Not you. Not under any circumstances."
"Doctor, we've all got to die some day."
"But not for a very very long time," the Doctor insisted. "And not on my watch. Okay?"
Donna nodded. "So if that future doesn't happen...what about the others?"
She felt the Doctor stiffen. He lowered his voice and rasped, "Which ones?"
Donna moved away from him and wandered back to the console, her hand skimming the edge as she stepped along the grating and distracted herself by looking up at the time rotor again. "I saw a family. Children," she elaborated.
"Ah, yes. And that Lee chap. Seemed like a good fellow."
Donna shook her head. "No, I mean I was still with you. Traveling."
"Oh." The Doctor cleared his throat, unable to look Donna in the eye as he added, "That one. The traveling. With children. Traveling with children."
Donna made a noncommittal motion with her head. "It's possible that I met someone and started a family, and you decided to take them aboard."
The Doctor tugged on his earlobe. "Possible. I have a question though."
Donna took a deep breath. "What's that?"
"Why was kissing me a shock?"
Donna shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? That's all that matters."
"Yes, but why did you think it would work?"
"Because we're just mates!" Donna exclaimed, exasperated. "And mates don't do things like snog each other senseless in public when one of them is dying of cyanide poisoning, do they?"
It was a rhetorical question, but the Doctor answered it anyway. "No, mates don't usually do that. I don't think anyone does. We'd be the first."
Donna gave an exhausted sigh. "Doctor, please."
"Fine, fine. No, I get it."
"I'm so embarrassed," Donna whined, plopping herself down on the jumpseat.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," the Doctor disagreed as he took a seat next to her. "Your womanly wiles saved my life."
Donna groaned dramatically and buried her head in her hands. "Oh God."
"I'm trying to pay you a compliment," the Doctor clarified. "Those were...some wiles. Very wily, your wiles were."
"All right, Spaceman! I get it!" she snapped, causing the Doctor to flinch. "It was a shock that I had any wiles to speak of, yeah? You can stop harping on it now, thank you very much!"
"What? No! No, no, no." The Doctor was quick to reassure her. "I never doubted your wiles for a second."
He immediately found himself on the receiving end of one of Donna's patented glares.
"I mean, I figured you're a...um...a woman who's probably had some...experience using said wiles..." he tried to clarify.
"Oi!" Donna smacked the Doctor on the shoulder. "I'm not some tart!"
"Ow! I never said you were! Oh, this is coming out all wrong."
"That's one thing we can agree on. Your point?"
"My point is that we're mates, you and me. Like you said," the Doctor explained, rubbing his arm. "And mates don't use wiles on each other."
Donna nodded. "Well there we are, then."
"Buuuuut," the Doctor bobbed his head in consideration, "if it should ever happen that one mate used her wiles on another, it might be a bit of a shock.... if those wiles inspired certain thoughts and feelings... that those mates agreed not to have... for each other..."
Donna's eyes went wide as she stared at the Doctor.
"...I'd imagine," he finished quickly.
She turned to study the ground. And then the walls. Anywhere but his face as hers flushed crimson to match her hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware of the TARDIS humming louder than usual, possibly laughing in amusement, though she'd deal with that thought later.
The Doctor took Donna's stunned silence as an opportunity to make his escape from the awkward conversation. He cleared his throat and jumped up to tend to the broken button on the console again, with a, "So. Anyway. Right. Good chat, Donna."
Donna's eyebrows knit together, partly in confusion and partly in frustration as the Doctor continued jabbing at that damned blue button.
"I'm knackered," he announced with a suspicious amount of energy, "with, you know, almost dying and all that. I'll be off for a kip. G'night!"
The Doctor was quick to head for the doorway, but Donna was faster and grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to spin around and look at her. Really look at her. And she looked like she was about to cry.
"Oh, I've ruined everything now, haven't I?" the Doctor mused, suddenly deflated.
"Doctor, you don't have to lie to me. I know I'm nothing special."
"What? Donna, no! I...blimey." He led her back to the jumpseat, where they resumed their earlier position, side-by-side. The Doctor continued, "Donna, you constantly put yourself down with all your talk about not being pretty enough or thin enough or smart enough. And you're wrong, Donna. You're so very wrong. You're amazing in so many ways."
"Right," Donna scoffed. "Name one."
"You're gorgeous just the way you are, inside and out, and your quick thinking has saved us both repeatedly! I only take on the best as my companions. You're smart and stunning and headstrong and caring. And when I look at you, I see..."
The Doctor's breath caught as he really looked at her. He saw a fiery brilliance and the potential for Donna to be so much more than an ordinary human. She seemed to glow and resonate with wisdom beyond her years and beyond her own understanding. In that moment, the Doctor swore she looked like a goddess.
Shocked by this revelation (he could have had another detox episode if there were any anchovies handy) he let out an astonished breath. In the most sincere voice he declared, "I see the most important woman in the whole wide universe."
Donna rolled her eyes. "Laying it on a bit thick there, Time Boy. You don't mean that."
"I do though! It's been so long since I've traveled with someone who's an equal and not just a passenger or a tourist along for the ride. I'd gotten used to impressing my companions with sightseeing and adventure. But I don't have to do that with you because you see me for who I am, flaws and all, and you stay with me anyway. Sure we're seen some amazing things together, you and me. But we travel to make the places we visit better." He took her hands in his again and declared, "You, Donna Noble, make me better. And when I look at you, I see an already brilliant and beautiful woman with so much kindness to share, and one who has an amazing amount of potential to be so much more than she ever dreamed possible. Cross my hearts."
Donna's jaw practically hit the floor. When a solid minute passed without either one of them saying anything, the Doctor winced, suddenly worried. "That didn't come out right either, did it? Oh I am rubbish at this."
"I guess words are all well and good, but that's not it." Donna looked away. "Thing is, I'm still a temp even when I'm traveling with you. I'm just filling in because the spot's available. I sought you out like a nutter, had my entire wardrobe packed in the boot of my car, and practically invited myself along. You didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It's not me you want here, and we both know it. You'd rather have Rose. And I get that. I understand. I'm your new temporary assistant, and I know I'll never measure up."
The Doctor's hearts broke. Is that what she really thought? "Donna, look at me," he begged. "Please."
Donna lifted her head ever so slightly and gave him a sidelong glance, still refusing to face him. But at least she met his eyes.
"Rose was the first companion I had after I'd lost everything I'd ever cared about: after I killed my own people," the Doctor explained. "I was so calloused and full of despair and self-loathing, and her innocence, playfulness, and sense of wonder softened me. She was what I needed at the time. And I'm so grateful to her for helping me heal. But I had to move on without her."
"See? That's how this works. All of your companions, we're just little blips on your timeline. One of us leaves, and you move on. You must've had dozens of us travel with you, and yet you never mention them. But that's how it has to be. You remember the past and might be able to see the future sometimes, but you live in the present. And that's why I'm just a temp: because you need someone for now. But I know this has to end sometime, me traveling with you. And then you'll need someone else. You'll go on, you'll live, you'll remember, yeah?" Donna bowed her head and was startled to find she was crying as several tears fell into her lap. "And it doesn't take superior Time Lord senses or whatever for me to know that there will be a time in your life when I'm no longer in it."
"Hey, c'mere," the Doctor whispered, wrapping her in a hug as she cried on his shoulder. "We're going to have the best of times, you and me. The best. And you're not a temp. You are one of the best companions I've ever had. I mean that. You're brilliant, you are. And I'll keep telling you that until you believe it. I don't want just anyone traveling with me. I want you, Donna. For as long as you want to stay."
"Well, I'm sure as hell not leaving as long as I have any say in the matter. You're the best friend I've ever had. Can't get rid of me that easy. 'Cos you need someone to make sure you clean up all your knick knacks and use a spoon when you eat marmalade and to shut you up when you get to talking technical nonsense and to keep your spirits up when you're feeling down. Like a big needy kid, you are. A giant hyperactive space toddler."
The Doctor grinned. "No one's ever called me that before."
"Then they're missing a trick," Donna quipped. "So you an' me, in the future. We'll have the best of times, yeah?"
"Oh yes." The Doctor nodded. "The best."
Author: Starseeker32
Rating: K or G
Words: 2646
Characters: Ten and Donna
Warnings/Spoilers: An episodic coda to "The Unicorn and the Wasp" in the same universe as the first part of my In Case of Emergency story. Don't let the silly title fool you: this story is about more than vague stuff and things.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. I just wanted to play with the BBC's characters for a bit.
Summary: [Donna and the Doctor have to discuss the use of wiles.]
Donna and the Doctor looked up at the time rotor as the TARDIS took them onwards, in the direction of their next adventure. Donna eventually felt the Doctor's eyes on her and she turned to him, blushing slightly. "What? Have I got something on my face?"
"Hm? No, no. I was just...thinking."
"What about?"
"Oh, the usual. Things. And stuff."
Donna nodded, smirking slightly. "I see."
"And more things," the Doctor elaborated with a small smile of his own.
"Well that's very specific," Donna quipped. She swayed from side to side lazily watching her dress swish as she moved. She still felt like a little girl playing dress-up and wondered if the TARDIS had made the dress especially for her or if it was a hand-me-down from one of the Doctor's former companions.
She nervously ran her fingers along the edge of the console, anxious to find something to focus on other than the alien next to her as she cleared her head. One of her hands went to fiddle with a lever, but she thought better of it. Best not to crash the TARDIS into the 1980s.
Donna sucked in a deep breath and braced herself for the conversation she wanted to have. It would be opening a can of worms and she knew it, but it had to be done: "Doctor, back at Lady Edison's. In the kitchen. With the, um, detox..."
"Oh, I'm fine now." The Doctor gave her a reassuring smile as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "Right as rain, all thanks to you!"
"Well I'm glad of that. Don't you go dyin' on me, Spaceman." Donna pointed an accusatory finger at the Doctor, attempting to lighten the mood with a little banter. She was glad he laughed along. "But I was wondering something. During the...detox, I saw some things. It was like half a dozen daydreams played themselves out in my head. But they looked so real."
The Doctor stalled, taking a moment to rub a phantom dust particle out of his eye. "You don't say. Interesting."
"I do say. And I think you know what I'm on about, yeah?"
"Ah, yes, well," the Doctor sniffed and rubbed the back of his neck, "you know that I'm a touch telepath."
Donna nodded. "Like when we were with the Ood." She had a feeling she knew where this conversation was headed, and it made her feel an odd combination of anticipation and dread.
"I can see all the possibilities of time and space," the Doctor continued, now taking his turn at fiddling with the controls. "I can see everything that is, was, what could ever be and what must not." He pushed the same blue button over and over again. It didn't light up or seem to do anything at all, really, and Donna assumed it was now broken. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the Doctor mutter, "Well, that's new. Got to fix that."
She cleared her throat. "You were saying?"
"Right." The Doctor stopped toying with the console and directed his attention back to Donna. "Well, if you hadn't helped me with the, um, detox, I would have died. My life was literally flashing before my eyes. And yours, it would seem."
Donna frowned. "But I didn't see the past. I saw−"
"My life is complicated, Donna. It's full of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, spacey-wacey..."
Donna grew impatient. "Doctor! You're avoiding the question."
"...stuff. Right. Like I said, I have the ability to see what could be. So when I thought of my connection to you, with my life flashing before my eyes...well, I suppose you could say that everything under the heading of 'my life' includes some possible futures as well."
"I see." Donna gulped. "I did see. Futures. With me."
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"Y'know what, let's just forget about it," Donna decided, dismissing the Doctor with a wave of her hand as she turned to leave the room.
"You're the one who brought it up," the Doctor countered, following after her. "And I can tell it's still bothering you."
Donna whirled around at the threshold. "Bothered? Really?" Donna laughed and put on a brave face. "Do I look bothered? Cos I'm not, you know. I'm definitely not bothered."
"Donna, I know you too well to believe that. You're upset. Please tell me what's wrong."
"Oh, y'know. Things and stuff," she countered. She worried her lip knowing there was no getting out of this one. "Like you said, I think I saw some of my possible futures. Some I didn't understand. There were people I didn't recognize, but it all seemed to make sense at the time. And I saw... I think I saw my own death."
The Doctor nodded but said nothing.
"When you look at me, is that what you see?" she wondered, her blue and gold eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Do you see my death?"
"No, Donna," the Doctor was quick to reassure her. "In fact, I usually can't see much at all. I can't see my own future or the future of those people closest to me. Unless of course there are outstanding circumstances."
"Like the need for a detox. In which case..."
He took her hands in his. "What we saw, us in the street, was only one possible future. And now that we know of that teeny tiny possibility, I can make sure it never happens. I won't have you die on me. Not you. Not under any circumstances."
"Doctor, we've all got to die some day."
"But not for a very very long time," the Doctor insisted. "And not on my watch. Okay?"
Donna nodded. "So if that future doesn't happen...what about the others?"
She felt the Doctor stiffen. He lowered his voice and rasped, "Which ones?"
Donna moved away from him and wandered back to the console, her hand skimming the edge as she stepped along the grating and distracted herself by looking up at the time rotor again. "I saw a family. Children," she elaborated.
"Ah, yes. And that Lee chap. Seemed like a good fellow."
Donna shook her head. "No, I mean I was still with you. Traveling."
"Oh." The Doctor cleared his throat, unable to look Donna in the eye as he added, "That one. The traveling. With children. Traveling with children."
Donna made a noncommittal motion with her head. "It's possible that I met someone and started a family, and you decided to take them aboard."
The Doctor tugged on his earlobe. "Possible. I have a question though."
Donna took a deep breath. "What's that?"
"Why was kissing me a shock?"
Donna shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? That's all that matters."
"Yes, but why did you think it would work?"
"Because we're just mates!" Donna exclaimed, exasperated. "And mates don't do things like snog each other senseless in public when one of them is dying of cyanide poisoning, do they?"
It was a rhetorical question, but the Doctor answered it anyway. "No, mates don't usually do that. I don't think anyone does. We'd be the first."
Donna gave an exhausted sigh. "Doctor, please."
"Fine, fine. No, I get it."
"I'm so embarrassed," Donna whined, plopping herself down on the jumpseat.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," the Doctor disagreed as he took a seat next to her. "Your womanly wiles saved my life."
Donna groaned dramatically and buried her head in her hands. "Oh God."
"I'm trying to pay you a compliment," the Doctor clarified. "Those were...some wiles. Very wily, your wiles were."
"All right, Spaceman! I get it!" she snapped, causing the Doctor to flinch. "It was a shock that I had any wiles to speak of, yeah? You can stop harping on it now, thank you very much!"
"What? No! No, no, no." The Doctor was quick to reassure her. "I never doubted your wiles for a second."
He immediately found himself on the receiving end of one of Donna's patented glares.
"I mean, I figured you're a...um...a woman who's probably had some...experience using said wiles..." he tried to clarify.
"Oi!" Donna smacked the Doctor on the shoulder. "I'm not some tart!"
"Ow! I never said you were! Oh, this is coming out all wrong."
"That's one thing we can agree on. Your point?"
"My point is that we're mates, you and me. Like you said," the Doctor explained, rubbing his arm. "And mates don't use wiles on each other."
Donna nodded. "Well there we are, then."
"Buuuuut," the Doctor bobbed his head in consideration, "if it should ever happen that one mate used her wiles on another, it might be a bit of a shock.... if those wiles inspired certain thoughts and feelings... that those mates agreed not to have... for each other..."
Donna's eyes went wide as she stared at the Doctor.
"...I'd imagine," he finished quickly.
She turned to study the ground. And then the walls. Anywhere but his face as hers flushed crimson to match her hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware of the TARDIS humming louder than usual, possibly laughing in amusement, though she'd deal with that thought later.
The Doctor took Donna's stunned silence as an opportunity to make his escape from the awkward conversation. He cleared his throat and jumped up to tend to the broken button on the console again, with a, "So. Anyway. Right. Good chat, Donna."
Donna's eyebrows knit together, partly in confusion and partly in frustration as the Doctor continued jabbing at that damned blue button.
"I'm knackered," he announced with a suspicious amount of energy, "with, you know, almost dying and all that. I'll be off for a kip. G'night!"
The Doctor was quick to head for the doorway, but Donna was faster and grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to spin around and look at her. Really look at her. And she looked like she was about to cry.
"Oh, I've ruined everything now, haven't I?" the Doctor mused, suddenly deflated.
"Doctor, you don't have to lie to me. I know I'm nothing special."
"What? Donna, no! I...blimey." He led her back to the jumpseat, where they resumed their earlier position, side-by-side. The Doctor continued, "Donna, you constantly put yourself down with all your talk about not being pretty enough or thin enough or smart enough. And you're wrong, Donna. You're so very wrong. You're amazing in so many ways."
"Right," Donna scoffed. "Name one."
"You're gorgeous just the way you are, inside and out, and your quick thinking has saved us both repeatedly! I only take on the best as my companions. You're smart and stunning and headstrong and caring. And when I look at you, I see..."
The Doctor's breath caught as he really looked at her. He saw a fiery brilliance and the potential for Donna to be so much more than an ordinary human. She seemed to glow and resonate with wisdom beyond her years and beyond her own understanding. In that moment, the Doctor swore she looked like a goddess.
Shocked by this revelation (he could have had another detox episode if there were any anchovies handy) he let out an astonished breath. In the most sincere voice he declared, "I see the most important woman in the whole wide universe."
Donna rolled her eyes. "Laying it on a bit thick there, Time Boy. You don't mean that."
"I do though! It's been so long since I've traveled with someone who's an equal and not just a passenger or a tourist along for the ride. I'd gotten used to impressing my companions with sightseeing and adventure. But I don't have to do that with you because you see me for who I am, flaws and all, and you stay with me anyway. Sure we're seen some amazing things together, you and me. But we travel to make the places we visit better." He took her hands in his again and declared, "You, Donna Noble, make me better. And when I look at you, I see an already brilliant and beautiful woman with so much kindness to share, and one who has an amazing amount of potential to be so much more than she ever dreamed possible. Cross my hearts."
Donna's jaw practically hit the floor. When a solid minute passed without either one of them saying anything, the Doctor winced, suddenly worried. "That didn't come out right either, did it? Oh I am rubbish at this."
"I guess words are all well and good, but that's not it." Donna looked away. "Thing is, I'm still a temp even when I'm traveling with you. I'm just filling in because the spot's available. I sought you out like a nutter, had my entire wardrobe packed in the boot of my car, and practically invited myself along. You didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It's not me you want here, and we both know it. You'd rather have Rose. And I get that. I understand. I'm your new temporary assistant, and I know I'll never measure up."
The Doctor's hearts broke. Is that what she really thought? "Donna, look at me," he begged. "Please."
Donna lifted her head ever so slightly and gave him a sidelong glance, still refusing to face him. But at least she met his eyes.
"Rose was the first companion I had after I'd lost everything I'd ever cared about: after I killed my own people," the Doctor explained. "I was so calloused and full of despair and self-loathing, and her innocence, playfulness, and sense of wonder softened me. She was what I needed at the time. And I'm so grateful to her for helping me heal. But I had to move on without her."
"See? That's how this works. All of your companions, we're just little blips on your timeline. One of us leaves, and you move on. You must've had dozens of us travel with you, and yet you never mention them. But that's how it has to be. You remember the past and might be able to see the future sometimes, but you live in the present. And that's why I'm just a temp: because you need someone for now. But I know this has to end sometime, me traveling with you. And then you'll need someone else. You'll go on, you'll live, you'll remember, yeah?" Donna bowed her head and was startled to find she was crying as several tears fell into her lap. "And it doesn't take superior Time Lord senses or whatever for me to know that there will be a time in your life when I'm no longer in it."
"Hey, c'mere," the Doctor whispered, wrapping her in a hug as she cried on his shoulder. "We're going to have the best of times, you and me. The best. And you're not a temp. You are one of the best companions I've ever had. I mean that. You're brilliant, you are. And I'll keep telling you that until you believe it. I don't want just anyone traveling with me. I want you, Donna. For as long as you want to stay."
"Well, I'm sure as hell not leaving as long as I have any say in the matter. You're the best friend I've ever had. Can't get rid of me that easy. 'Cos you need someone to make sure you clean up all your knick knacks and use a spoon when you eat marmalade and to shut you up when you get to talking technical nonsense and to keep your spirits up when you're feeling down. Like a big needy kid, you are. A giant hyperactive space toddler."
The Doctor grinned. "No one's ever called me that before."
"Then they're missing a trick," Donna quipped. "So you an' me, in the future. We'll have the best of times, yeah?"
"Oh yes." The Doctor nodded. "The best."